


V-Day Sickness

by hannrose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day Fluff, peter is super extra, theyre in love!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:31:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannrose/pseuds/hannrose
Summary: peter's plans for the perfect valentine's day come undone when michelle catches the flu.





	V-Day Sickness

Peter loved the holidays.

 

When he was a kid, living with his aunt and his uncle, Ben would always go all out. In December, he’d decorate the house in multi-colored fairy lights, a giant Christmas tree for May, and would place menorahs on almost every table for himself. And in a span of a few days, he’d take it all down and put up New Years decorations. They’d find shiny strings around the house for months afterwards.

 

Even after Ben died, Peter would try to keep the tradition going. Christmas tree for May, menorah for him; he’d hide sensors around the house during Halloween, sensors he’d forget about and walk right through them, and would be greeted with a heart stopping jump scare. Thanksgiving was boring, Peter had always thought. He tried his best to come up with things, but they never made dinner, so he gave up. For the Fourth of July, he put up streamers, and once made a life size cut out of Uncle Sam. May did not appreciate that, though, because Peter placed it in the kitchen, and at one in the morning, May thought someone had broken in.

 

The one holiday Peter never got a chance to attempt was Valentine’s Day. May refused; she said it hurt too much. Ben would always do the sweetest, most thoughtful thing and after his death, May didn’t feel like celebrating the holiday. “It’s made up, anyways,” Peter said, although it hurt his heart to say that.

 

Besides, Peter didn’t have anyone to celebrate with. At seventeen, he was nowhere near having a girlfriend. Liz was gone, Gwen Stacy wouldn’t talk to him after he missed her birthday party, and-- No, yeah. Those were the only two girls who had ever expressed interest in Peter.

 

Up until Michelle Jones walked up to him in calculus one day. It was October. The leaves were just changing color, and the weather was turning colder and colder with every passing day. Michelle was wearing a mustard knit sweater and green cargo pants that day. 

 

She sat in the desk in front of him, and slid into her seat without a word. Halfway through Mr. Tombs’ lecture, Michelle turned around in her seat. “Hi, Peter,” she greeted, her tone hushed.

 

“Hey, MJ. W-what’s up?” Peter could feel their teacher glaring at them.

 

“D-do you-- Would you like to--” She paused and took a deep breath. “Screw it. You’re coming to the movies with me tomorrow at six p.m. You’re buying, because despite the fact that I think gender stereotypes are stupid, I’m pretty much broke. So I’ll let this one slide.”

 

Peter knit his eyebrows together. “What gender stereotype?”

 

“That guys always have to pay on the first date,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes like it was obvious.

 

“F-first d--”

 

“Peter and Michelle!” Mr. Tombs yelled. “Do you two have something you’d like to share with the whole class?”

 

His face flushed. Michelle, on the other hand, stood up. She gently wiped her hands on her jeans and nodded, “Yes, actually. I have no clue what’s in theaters right now, so if anyone has any movie suggestions, Peter and I would love to hear them. Thank you.”

 

Then, she sat back down, the whole class gawking at her.

 

Did that really just happen? Was Peter going on a date with one of his best friends?

 

He liked Michelle. However, every time he started thinking about her as something  _ more _ than a friend, he instinctively shut his brain off. Peter wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that, is all, and he always thought Michelle found him kind of… repulsive.

 

In the thirty six minutes they had left in calculus, though, Peter finally let his brain free. Michelle had pretty hair, and a pretty voice, and a pretty  _ everything _ . He liked how assertive she was, because Peter, himself, was the exact opposite. He liked how when he was with her, he didn’t have to worry about other things. Michelle always found a way to lift his anxieties.

 

Confidently, after they were released, he caught up to her and said, “Yes. Yeah, I’ll go to the movies with you.”

 

“Really?” she gasped, her eyes filling with wonder and a smile covering her permanent frown. “I- I mean, cool. That’s cool. Not like you really had a choice.”

 

They went on the date, and as Peter walked her home, they stopped under a streetlamp abruptly. Michelle grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him into her, their lips smashing together with little grace. He was stunned. And, at the same time, he wanted to stay like that for the rest of his life.

 

She asked him to be her boyfriend the Monday after. Peter had to stop himself from screaming yes in the middle of the library.

 

Halloween came first. Peter had the marvelous idea to do couples costumes. Michelle was hesitant, at first; their relationship was still fresh and new, and she had yet to lower her abrasive guard. He finally talked her into it, after hours of denying her “Peter Parker’s Perfect (P)Kiss.” (The P was silent, he’d always say. That was the thing that made her burst into laughter.)

 

Her terms, though, was that Peter had to be Leia, and she had to be Han. He agreed, buying a wig off of amazon for $13 dollars, and then the gold bikini costume for much, much more. Peter could’ve picked the outfit she had in the first movie, but he wanted to make Michelle flustered.

 

She was. She could hardly make complete sentences that entire night.

 

Peter was, also, pretty damn flustered. His girlfriend holding a fake blaster, dressed up as his favorite character-- very, very attractive. He took a million pictures of her that night.

 

He went to her house for Thanksgiving, and brought May with him. Michelle came over the day before Christmas Eve, and for the first time ever, her parents let her sleep over. “Holiday spirit,” she said, snuggling into his chest. It was around that time that she got less sarcastic, and more vulnerable. That was her gift to him, and she didn’t let Peter get her a gift. On New Years, when the ball dropped, they said “I love you,” for the first time.

 

And Peter meant it, with his whole being. He was in love with Michelle Jones, and he wanted her to know it.

 

So,  _ weeks _ before Valentine’s Day, he started planning. Peter finally had someone who he could spoil, and someone who deserved it. He called Tony to get a reservation at an elite restaurant, and Tony offered to pay for dinner, flowers, and transportation. That was pretty much all Peter needed.

 

He, might have, also called a few of his orchestra friends and offered to pay them $10 each if they could play a song for Michelle after school dismissed. He also, maybe, bought a bunch of little gifts, and maybe called Michelle’s favorite bakery and placed an order for her favorite pastries.

 

It wasn’t too much. Peter’s empty bank account might’ve disagreed, but Michelle deserved it all.

 

When Michelle didn’t come to school that Friday the 13th, one part of Peter’s plan had already been ruined. And there was no way he was getting his money back. He texted Michelle the entire day, asking where she was, but to no response.

 

He went to her house after school immediately. Michelle opened the door, wearing baggy sweats, her hair a tangled mess, and she looked, well, sickly. Her skin was pale and her eyes puffy and her nose red. “I’m sick,” she pouted, crashing into Peter’s chest.

 

Peter wrapped his arms around her. “How, exactly?” he asked.

 

“Fever. Chills. Some throwing up.” Michelle took a step back, and her eyes lit up. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I- I know how excited you were for Valentine’s Day. And now I can hardly move through my house.”

 

“It’s okay,” Peter promised. “I didn’t have anything planned, anyways. You think you’re that special?” He smiled, clearing the hair out of her face gently.

 

Michelle leaned into his hand. “My parents left this afternoon to go to Poconos. I need someone to take care of me.”

 

Peter sighed, shaking his head sarcastically. “You’re such a baby. I guess I can, anyways.”

 

That night of the thirteenth, Peter made chicken noodle soup (from the can,) and held her as she fell asleep on the couch. She was dozing off every few minutes, and it only stuck at about ten p.m. He kissed her temple when he knew she was actually sleeping, because Michelle had been dodging his kisses all night; Peter wasn’t scared of a stupid fever, though.

 

The next morning, it was Valentine’s Day. Michelle woke up feeling better than the day before, but she still wasn’t healthy. “I’m so sorry that I’m sick,” she repeated again. “On our first Valentine’s Day together.” Her head was in his lap, and they were watching one of the stupid Hallmark movies.

 

“MJ, I’m telling you, I’m totally okay with it!” Peter was lying, because he was really disappointed. So much  _ money _ , gone. And, overall, the opportunity to show Michelle his love. That was more important. Of course. “There were no extravagant plans. I was kinda expecting to be doing something like this, actually.”

 

“Really?” Michelle asked, reaching up and hooking her hand onto Peter’s neck.

 

“Really. Just you and me and a movie.”

 

“So no dinner? Wow. Way to make a girl feel cheap,” Michelle said, and she pushed herself off of Peter’s lap.

 

Her snarky attitude was back; she must’ve been feeling better already.

 

However, by noon, she was passed out again. Peter still had that pit in his stomach as he watched her sleep. And then he decided, screw it, if Michelle couldn’t go out to the Valentine’s dinner, the Valentine’s dinner would come to her. It’s what she deserved. (And Tony payed a lot of money, and Peter felt terrible about it.)

 

Peter had to pick everything up himself; the dinner, the dessert, the flowers, and the gift he had bought her, which was at his house. The dinner would probably be cold by the time he got back, so Peter was going to order them both chicken salads. Tasty ass chicken salads, but salads nonetheless.

 

At five p.m., he made Michelle go into her bedroom. He carried her, actually, and she didn’t put up a fight. “Where are you going?” she had asked.

 

“I’m just picking up a few things from my house, I’ll be back soon.” Then, he tried leaning in for a kiss, and Michelle stopped him.

 

“I don’t want you sick,” she apologized.

 

In all, it took Peter two hours to get everything. There was an issue with the subway, and he lost his key to his apartment so he had to wait until May got back from yoga. She, then, stuffed a condom into Michelle’s gift bag, because Peter’s hands were full. Peter didn’t have the will to convince her that they weren’t sexually active, at the moment.

 

When he got back to Michelle’s apartment, he rummaged through the closet and found a load of candles. He placed them around, lit them, and turned the lights off. He emptied one of the dying flower vases and replaced it with the new, fresh bouquet he had bought. Peter put the dessert in the fridge, and opened up the takeout boxes.

 

He should put the salads on a plate. That was more presentable. Michelle liked presentable.

 

Peter didn’t have the time, though, because Michelle came stumbling out of the bedroom. “What the hell--?” she gasped, seeing what Peter had done. “Holy shit. Peter, what the hell?”

 

“Uh… happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Take a seat?” He rushed over to the kitchen table, putting the takeout boxes down and pulled out her chair.

 

Michelle, in her sweats, sat down in front of her candlelit dinner. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” she grinned.

 

“It’s just dinner. Were you not planning on eating dinner?” Peter asked, and he sat down across from her.

 

“No, actually. I wasn’t.” Michelle lifted the cover of the takeout box, and gawked at its logo. “ _ Peter _ ! This restaurant is like, super expensive!”

 

“ _ Eat _ ,” he commanded.

 

Michelle jabbed her fork into the salad and shoved it into her mouth. “ _ Eating _ ,” she mocked.

 

“There was also supposed to be a full string quartet,” Peter said. “But I couldn’t get them all over here.”

 

“Okay,” Michelle scoffed. “Whatever you say, baby.”

 

They ate, and he put on music, and eventually they finished. He picked the gift bag off of the floor and handed it over to Michelle. “You didn’t have to--” she began.

 

“Just open it.”

 

The gift was cheesy--a locket with their faces in it. Michelle would say it was because of how exhausted she was, but she started tearing up when she saw it. Then, she saw May’s present. “You got me a  _ condom _ ?”

 

“What? No!” Peter reached over the table, and Michelle yanked it out of his grasp. He shot out of his chair grab it from her. “That’s all May. We don’t need that. Can you-- can you give it to me?”

 

“No. It’s my condom now.” Michelle held it close to her chest. She let it fly out of her fingers when she let out a string of sneezes, though.

 

Peter picked it up off of the floor and tucked it into his back pocket. When she saw that, she also stood up, and tried to get it back from him. “Hey! May gave it to  _ me _ ,” she argued.

 

He placed his hands on her hips and she backed him into the fridge. “Why do you want it so bad?”

 

“I don’t,” Michelle answered. She put her hands on his shoulders. “I mean-- I want  _ one _ . That was going to be my V-Day gift to you.”

 

“What was?”

 

“Jesus, are you clueless?” she laughed, resting her head against his. “Think about it. Condom.  _ V-Day _ . We’ve been dating for a while, and I love you, and--  _ V. Day _ . Peter.”

 

“Oh!” he yelled. “Oh. You’re so cheap, MJ. You can’t buy me an actual gift?”

 

Michelle pushed his cheek, making his head touch his shoulder. “Shut up. If my head didn’t hurt like a bitch, and if I still didn’t have a fever, I’d jump you right now. And not because of some stupid made up holiday, but because I love you. Valentine’s Day just seemed like a good time to do it.”

 

“I can wait,” Peter said. “Because last night you were snoring, and I need that image out of my head before--”

 

She cut him off, and placed her lips against his.

 

“I thought you said--”

 

“Well, who cares? That kiss was my gift to you.”

 

“ _ So cheap _ .”

 

“Shut up.” Michelle gazed into his eyes again. “I love you, Peter. Thank you for staying in with me.”

 

“I love you, too. And-- I’d do anything for you.” Peter kissed her again, softly and gently.

 

He  _ did _ get sick that Sunday. But, it was worth it. Peter would’ve done it again, in a heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> happy almost valentine's day! anyways, i hope EVERYONE enjoyed this one, since the characterization is pretty accurate. i'll stop spamming the petermj tag now <3


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